


repetition

by khayr



Category: RWBY
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Ichor, Mild Gore, birthday fic, glynda kills a truckload of grimm and is surprisingly nonchalant about it: the fic, this probably, what do you get when you leave the good witch in charge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8934352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: Rinse. Wash. Repeat.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KIBITZER](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KIBITZER/gifts).



> happy birthday KIBITZER!!!!!! i love u!!!!!!!! 8 )
> 
> whats better than this, just sad moms repressing their feelings for the sake of shit that needs to get done

They’d both deserved a break, she had told herself. They all needed one.  
  
Even as another sickening _snap_ of bone and cartilage broke the silence of the streets Glynda carried this thought, repeating it like a mantra until the rinse-wash-repeat of eviscerating Grimm one after another was nothing but the muscle memory of a well-oiled machine.  
  
Once she had gotten wind of the other professors’ desire to get out of the city for just a little while she’d insisted they go. It wouldn’t do to have all of them drained and spent when so much more needed to be done; months of eradicating Grimm and White Fang alike from the streets of Vale was enough to make even a seasoned hunter waver.  
  
She couldn’t have that.  
  
Glynda had simply picked up the slack from their absence, stretching her already taxed aura as far as it could go for the sake of maybe- just maybe- atoning for what had become their own disastrous error. Salem’s strike directly at them had been unprecedented even by her standards and they were paying dearly for not seeing it sooner.  
  
She’d long given up the hope that Ozpin was waiting to walk around the corner and help her scrape up the pieces. He was alive, yes, she could feel that much in her bones… but if he was able to he would have been back home to Beacon a long time ago.  
  
No, she was on her own this time.  
  
Glynda paused where she was standing, turning on her heel in time to blast a rapidly approaching beowolf with a chunk of concrete. In a particularly forceful manner the creature was smeared across the side of the neighboring building with a satisfying _squelch_ , black ichor dripping down and into the street below.  
  
If she were being honest with herself, she would do just about anything to sit someplace quiet with a cup of tea and her favorite book.  
  
She drew a long, low sigh and mustered her aura again, dragging the piece of debris back to where it belonged and watching with a detached sense of satisfaction as the beowolf’s lifeless body dropped to the ground and slowly began to dissipate into thick smoke. It was a drop of water in an ocean of Grimm, but for five minutes it was nothing more than idle stress relief.  
  
After a moment she looked over her work on this street. Despite the smear of black blood on the sidewalk the rest of it was finally put back together the way it had been before. Windsor and Fourth, previously home to a slew of cafes and bakeries that drew people from all over the city. They were all empty now, concrete dust settled over everything that lay still as a grave.  
  
This was adequate.  
  
The huntress stepped over another dissolving Grimm corpse, following the length of the street to continue the same treatment on the next one over. The night was young; there was plenty to do. There always was.  
  
Rinse. Wash. Repeat.


End file.
